


Socks or sex?!

by hobbeshalftail3469



Category: Cormoran Strike Series - Robert Galbraith
Genre: Dressed Up, F/M, Fancy meal as a foursome, One Shot, black truffle.....hmmmm?, eventual kiss, socks and sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-15
Updated: 2019-03-15
Packaged: 2019-11-18 14:07:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,897
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18121976
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hobbeshalftail3469/pseuds/hobbeshalftail3469
Summary: So, this is based loosely on a comment from a UK chef/foodie called Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall. When he was doing a show foraging for truffles he made an omelette and asked his friend to try and describe the taste of truffle....his suggestion was that it was a mixture of socks and sex!So......those 2 responses made me think Nick and Strike!I also wrote another story earlier this year that contained the smallest reference to 'salty, parmesan cheese' which started quite a bit of comment banter.....so hey....food!





	Socks or sex?!

"I don't think I've ever had it....what exactly does black truffle taste like?" Robin asked Ilsa who was sat across from her in the swanky restaurant.   
Nick and Cormoran had taken the opportunity of nipping to the loo and for a cigarette respectively as the ladies perused the menus, happily sipping on their pre dinner cocktails.  
Ilsa had been gifted a slap up meal from a grateful client - which technically she wasn't legally supposed to accept - but she'd got around that by asking the client to donate the gift to Robin on the understanding that she would make sure that Nick, herself and Strike made up the rest of the party.  
Hence why they were enjoying a Cosmopolitan and a Bramble, clad in smart 'going out' clothes and considering the merits of black truffle risotto for a main course.

Robin had needed to stifle several urges to drool open mouthed at her work companion already....the alcohol content of her cocktail probably wouldn't help matters, nor did the fact that she knew she had opted for fancy underwear beneath her almost sheer plum coloured blouse and incredibly well fitted black cigarette pants. She was wearing high, strappy sandals which displayed toenails painted to match the colour of her blouse, and had noticed a brief, but definitely evident quick up and down appraisal of her choice of outfit when they'd all got out of the taxi.

Ilsa was wrinkling her nose in response to Robin's question when the men reappeared, smiling and relaxed as they made their way, smugly,  across to their two, frankly stunning, dining companions.  
Nick never passed a day without considering himself to be the luckiest man alive, and Ilsa managed to look both alluring and relaxed in her black, plunging fronted jumpsuit.   
Cormoran was glad that he'd made an effort in his appearance too - Robin looked gorgeous, and it was taking a not inconsiderable amount of his energy to refrain from staring unashamedly at her....he was managing with furtive glances every now and them.   
He removed his relatively smart dark grey jacket and hung it over the back of his chair, revealing a plain black, long-sleeved shirt, which looked quite darkly seductive Robin thought, especially when combined with his black trousers, swarthy features and facial hair; especially in the dimmed, glowing lights of the restaurant.

"I don't really know, what do you two think?" Ilsa asked.  
"About what?" Nick replied, taking his seat beside Ilsa - the seating and table was arranged with 4 seats around the 4 sides of an angled, square table, so nobody was technically beside the other, but it also meant that there had been no awkward decisions about whether to sit facing 'partners' of side by side.  
"Black truffle," Ilsa stated, noticing their continued looks of misunderstanding. "Robin is considering going for the risotto, but she isn't sure she's ever had black truffle," Ilsa caught them up noting their slight nods of comprehension as they settled in their seats.  
"Yeah, what's it taste like?" Robin added, glancing at Nick and Strike.  
Both answered on the same beat :  
"Socks."  
"Sex."

Cormoran raised his eyebrows at Nick who cast an equally quizzical look back at him :  
"Socks?" Cormoran hissed, highly amused by Nick's comparison compared to his own.  
Nick looked a little sheepish as Ilsa and Robin sat with wide eyed expressions, glancing between the 2.....poor old Robin not sure at all if either description helped with her decision making!  
"Well.....yeah....but.....sex? What exactly are you thinking....?" Nick conspiratorially demanded.  
Strike shrugged a little, not quite sure why further information was required as far as he was concerned, "Oh......you know! It tastes like......sex!" and Cormoran's mouth, eyes and neck did a mixture of flicking actions centred around his and Ilsa's groin.  
A flash of recognition crossed Nick's face, "Ahhhhhhhh, yeah.....seeeexxxx!  I'm with you!" he turned his attention to Robin, "Yeah forget the socks analogy, definitely go with his!"

Robin felt a soft blush tinge her cheeks as Ilsa asked, with a hefty degree of irony, "There you go....do you fancy that then?"

Robin had been forced to admit her developing feelings for Cormoran after Ilsa had caught her ogling his arse and not quite managing to stifle her sigh when he'd bent to pick up a dropped teaspoon whilst making tea in the office a few days earlier.  
Robin faced her with a resolute and haughty manner and quipped, "Sounds rather tempting!" 

The server came across to take their orders, Ilsa and Robin giving their preferred starters and main course choices first, then Nick, and finally Cormoran:  
"I'll have the duck ravioli to start and then I'm in the mood for risotto please."

They ordered a bottle of white wine from the Alsace region and a decent red from South Africa before being left alone once more.   
Three pairs of eyes immediately shot to Cormoran.  
"What?" he asked, knowing full well that this was some veiled attempt to embarrass him for his choice of meal based on his earlier comparison. "I like risotto....and I haven't had it in a while!" He hadn't considered the double entendre until the comments left his lips!  
Nick sniggered into his drink, followed by Ilsa flashing  her eyebrows at Robin, who sucked the blackberry from the wooden stick in her cocktail as a distraction to the heat flooding through the region beneath her napkin!

Ilsa managed to change the subject, they drained their drinks, replaced beers and cocktails with wine and  ooh'd and aaah'd as their starters arrived.   
Mouthfuls were passed around on forks, and the general feeling at the table to an onlooker would be of two happy, well established couples enjoying time together.

The dimmed lighting in the restaurant was incredibly flattering, and the combination of this, their closeness and the free flowing drinks were making the self imposed barriers of both Robin and Strike start to feel as flimsy as the fabric of Robin's blouse.  
Ilsa nudged Nick as Robin's finger stabbed lightly at Cormoran's arm when she was making a point during the conversation - she brought the finger to rest next to his shirt sleeve and the married couple watched as their friend used his own finger to mimic her light tapping action, against her own hand when he was speaking....they also noticed that he slid his finger along hers rather than remove it immediately from her skin contact.  
Below the table Ilsa's feet did a little jig of delight, Nick caught her excited gaze and shook his head slightly....but even he had to admit, Oggy was definitely flashing some of his 'smoulder' towards Robin, and she was (as was usual when Cormoran turned it on) seemingly mesmerized by him.  
On the other hand, it might be the wine and Ilsa's wishful thinking!

Two servers appeared at the table to signify the main courses had arrived.   
Ilsa had her sea bass placed in front of her, Nick his 'lamb done 3 ways' option and both Robin and Cormoran regarded their rather beautifully presented dishes of black truffle risotto topped with swirls of deliciously rich olive oil, flakes of smoked salt and shards of optional parmesan, which they had both eagerly selected.  
Robin couldn't help but ponder Strike's description of black truffle......sex.......what exactly did he mean?   
Nick seemed to twig immediately.  
What was she missing?

She took a mouthful of the hot, silken risotto.......oohhhhhhhh.....yeah.......'sex'!  
The look must have reflected across her face because Cormoran met her eyes with an impishly alluring one of his own, uttering the word, "See?!"  
Robin grinned and watched as he placed a large forkful from his own plate into his mouth, momentarily closing his eyes and allowing his neck to melt slightly on his shoulders at the flavour.  
"Yep....I'm definitely not getting socks from it!" she giggled.  
"But are you liking it?" Strike asked suggestively.  
Robin nodded, "Definitely!"

Nick and Ilsa almost felt like they needed to ask for a separate table, Nick cleared his throat purposefully to break the simmering electricity from their table companions...."So......we were talking new offices....."

And so the meal and discussion continued, although Robin couldn't quite help but notice the appetite and enjoyment Strike displayed for each mouthful of his dish, the way he rolled each forkful around his mouth and the way he licked his thumb to remove a stray morsel. 

Cormoran had to keep pulling himself back to the discussion rather than stare openly at the sight of Robin scooping the risotto between her lips, pausing every few mouthfuls to sip on her wine, toying with the stem of the tall glass and doing that hair flick thing she did which on a normal working day played havoc with his equilibrium....but now, in the soft glow of the restaurant, wearing that blouse and eating a meal beside him that was basically the food equivalent of oral sex......let's just say he was thankful for the napkin on his lap!

With dishes cleared and more wine poured to accompany their easy conversation Strike felt reluctant, and if he was honest physically unable to go for a further cigarette.  
Dessert menus were brought across and they decided between them what to select.  
Robin and Ilsa took the opportunity to nip to the ladies.

As soon as the women had left Strike let out a throaty groan and puffed out his cheeks, Nick casting him a quizzical and slightly amused expression.  
Nick had badgered his friend about his feelings for Robin since he'd admitted them during an incredibly drunken evening following an Arsenal win over Tottenham some weeks earlier, but this evening was a different level.  
"Bloody hell, Oggy! Please tell me you have been aware of the chemistry flying off you two all night?" he asked.  
Strike had the grace to blush slightly and tried to curtail the grin which was overtaking his face, "It's not just me then? Fucking hell.......this is really good......am I going to fuck it up if I say something later?" he asked, sipping more of the rather good red wine which had undoubtedly helped to relax him into behaving slightly freer than usual.  
Nick shook his head and smiled at his friend, "Oggy mate, I am telling you......I was tempted to ask if they could find me and Ils a separate table! There is definitely something there......and it isn't just her being a friend before you start with that argument again!" and he held up his finger towards Strike to silence him.  
"I don't know........what if I'm totally wrong?"  
Nick paused before he answered, "Then that would make both me AND Ilsa wrong too....and as my wife frequently reminds me....she's always right!"

In the ladies Ilsa and Robin were giggling and carrying out a conversation across the toilet cubicles:  
"I am telling you, it has been soooooo obvious...he is completely into you...and not just in a 'I'm nice friendly, work colleague Corm' kind of way!"  
"He looks really sexy.....and the way he was eating that risotto....God Ilsa......I wanted to sob and lick him!"

Ilsa finished and was washing her hands as Robin joined her at the sinks.  
"Don't waste this......Christ, this is about as gagging for it and obvious as Corm gets.....he's even flashed you the famous 'smoulder' [she added air quotes as she spoke]....and that only comes out on special occasions.....'cos it is a powerful phenomenon when it's unleashed!"  
Robin grinned and teased her damp fingers through her hair to restyle it slightly.   
They both reapplied lipstick and regarded each other in the mirror.  
"You know you'll have to make it obvious," Ilsa stated.  
Robin nodded, "What if I'm totally wrong?"  
Ilsa paused before she answered, "You're not! because if you were I'd be wrong too......and as I frequently remind Nick....I'm never wrong!" and she flipped her small clutch bag closed.

Nick and Cormoran had begun to discuss a stag party that Nick had been invited to, and was still trying to persuade Oggy to join him on......the answer was still a resolute no, working on the assumption that :  
"One, I have no desire to get into a go-Kart, two, I spend my working week in and out of strip clubs and three, I'll just end up wanting to call it a night at 11 o'clock, and start looking around for a pub with seats and no loud music, and then I'll be called 'Grandad' and I'll feel old and depressed!"  
Nick pulled a face, "I know mate, but that's why I'd kind of like you there.....so that I'm not the only old fart!"

"Who's an old fart?" Ilsa asked as they rejoined the men.  
"Both of us!" Strike grinned, "Actually, all of us....except Robin!"  
Robin pushed out her lower lip, presumably to look petulant, but in actual fact it just made Cormoran want to lean over and suck it!  
"Don't leave me out! I'm the only divorced person here...surely that gives me automatic old fart points!" she stated.  
Cormoran smiled longingly across at her, it was the smile that made his eyes crinkle at the sides, "Fair enough....you can be a young fart, OK?"  
She returned his cheeky grin and held up her palm as an invitation for a high 5.   
As he tapped his hand to hers though, she swiftly threaded her fingers between his and gave his whole hand a fractional squeeze rather than let it go, all the while maintaining her gaze on his hooded, green eyes.  
Cormoran saw the dilation in her pupils and was returning the entwined finger squeeze, stroking his thumb against hers, when their desserts were brought, causing both to glance away, and then back at each other with barely disguised smiles and desire.

Each of the desserts was a plate based around a single word theme; Ilsa had opted for chocolate, Nick for pineapple, Robin for caramel and Strike for vanilla.   
The elaborate and beautiful plates placed before them displayed a range of small, intricate and delectable desserts, each of which earned the universally accepted noises of 'gorgeous food' when eaten.  
As with the starters, morsels from various dishes were passed around, and Strike opted to 'feed' Robin from his own spoon rather than swap over as he had done earlier.   
It was intimate, sexy and a definite signal to respond to her hand gesture.

They all laughed, tried and failed to rank the desserts in order of deliciousness and decided not to bother with coffees as they wanted to savour the taste of the food a while longer.

The bill not being an issue they simply chucked a tenner each in for a decent tip; Ilsa and Robin made their way with the server to retrieve their jackets whilst Strike and Nick put theirs on at the table.

Nick informed Strike that he and Ilsa were going to jump on the tube - Ilsa had changed at work which was why they'd shared the taxi with the others to get there, but it made no sense to do the same for the return and the restaurant was only a few stops away from Casa Herbert.  
Strike flashed him a knowing and thankful smirk as they joined the ladies in the foyer who were in the process of hugging and saying their goodbyes.

Strike hugged and kissed Ilsa warmly and embraced Nick in a masculine, but affectionately reciprocated bear hug. After a quick hug and peck on the cheek between Nick and Robin the couples parted just outside the door.  
There was a taxi rank with no queue and a waiting black cab which Strike guided Robin towards, maintaining a soft palm on her back as he opened the door for her and assisted her inside.

"Where to?" asked the driver as Cormoran clambered in beside her.   
He paused and looked purposefully at Robin, his face wordlessly echoing the question.  
Robin didn't break his gaze, but opened her mouth and confidently gave the address of her flat.   
She saw the slight hitch to Cormoran's breathing and the flare to his pupils, "Is that OK?" she asked softly.   
Strike dipped his neck slightly, "That depends," he murmured and slid his hand into her rose-gold tresses, cupping the base of her skull and guiding her mouth towards his.   
The moment of their lips meeting felt like the most natural, yet eagerly awaited sensation, and both felt the other chuckle slightly as their lips moved softly against each other with a warmth and tenderness that was both completely unexpected and impossible to imagine any other way.

Easing himself away, despite her moan and fingertips reaching out to clasp his shirt, he finished his question, "Depends if that's OK?"  
She tilted her face back, lips parted but smiling, "Definitely."  
Their foreheads found each other and Robin inhaled the unmistakable aroma of Cormoran, "So.....how long is it exactly since you had some decent risotto?" she whispered saucily.  
Strike growled, the reverberation through his chest and Robin's fingers as they rested there highly arousing, "Hmmmm? I think I might definitely be able to say I'll have plenty to satisfy me tonight!" and he brought his lips and teeth down to her earlobe in a manner that made thoughts of food evaporate.


End file.
